Page 38 of Devious Roses

“The court system is as overrun as the jails. They’ve probably got a backlog. What are days like?”

“Long,” he answers. “Boring.”

“Any more specifics?”

“Six a.m., wake up. Ten p.m., lights out. One hour exercise. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Two hours recreation. Everything else… this.” He holds out both arms, gesturing to the cell we’re in.

I look around at the nine by twelve space again, then nod, resigning myself to this fate. At least for the foreseeable future.

“Sounds like I’m about to get a lot of reading done.”

* * *

I keep my promise and read Elmer two chapters of his Bible. He sits attentively and listens to every word. By the time ten o’clock rolls around and lights go out, he’s snoring like a baby. I’m up like the insomniac I am.

It’s not for several more hours that I fall asleep.

Only to wake up an hour ahead of schedule.

I use the time to stare up at the ceiling and think about the many things I’ve mentally been avoiding. Jail might only be temporary—for the time being as I await trial—but that doesn’t mean it was any easier saying goodbye to Delphine.

We didn’t evengeta goodbye. They slapped the cuffs on me so fast, I could hardly get a look at her.

She wasn’t handling the verdict well. As I was hauled off through a side door, I recognized the way her features were glazing over. The way she was shifting into panic mode.

I couldn’t even be there for her. I couldn’t even hug or kiss her and tell her everything would be alright.

There’s no denying the powers that be are working against us. Northam’s city officials and whatever other corrupt entities like the former Neptune Society that want to take me down. Punish me. Is Lucius somehow responsible?

I’ve always got an ace in my back pocket. You should know that by now.

I grit my teeth, glaring up at the ceiling.

Of course the fat fuck had some other plan going. Some other means to fight back even as he lay deformed and defeated in my basement.

But it’s also life.

Life once again interfering, refusing to let me and Delphine simplybe.

We’ve already lost more than a decade of time together. Now there’s the very real possibility I could be going away to prison for who knows how long.

It could be another decade that we lose…

“Rise and shine, boys!” shouts an officer, banging a baton on the iron bars of different cells. “Count in fifteen minutes. Line up, line up!”

Suddenly, the pin-drop silent jail erupts into a bustle of movement. Inmates hop off their bunks and rush to put on their hideous scrubs. I do the same, jumping down, and joining Elmer at the door of our cell.

Count takes another thirty minutes. The correctional officers on shift go through cell by cell and take attendance, making sure everybody’s accounted for.

Then we’re gradually escorted into what’s known as the chow hall. A huge room with a dozen-odd rectangle-shaped tables and benches.

I receive more stares as I grab a tray and join the back of the food line. People are talking, speculating about me, and who I am. It doesn’t take Einstein to figure that out.

None of it fazes me. I ignore every stare and every mutter.

The food served is by no means gourmet, but it’s edible. Runny eggs. Dry toast. Milk that tastes like it’ll be sour in another day. A cup of some of the most depressing fruit I’ve ever seen in my life—rubbery grapes and a couple uneven slices of apple.

I sit alone. Again ignoring every stare in the place.